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As she walked down the long path in the garden she could feel her heart beating painfully against her chest. It dictated her pace, her footsteps keeping time with the beats. Why was it such a long walk?
She could see the obelisk, standing in the middle of the converging pathways divided by tall hedgerows. And she could see him, sat with his back to her, leaning against the stone, his attention diverted. He wouldn’t see her approach, but her would hear her. If her heart, thumping loudly against her ribcage did not warn him of her arrival then her shoes crunching through the leaves would.
She knew what she was going to say to him. She’d practiced in the carriage on the way to Brocket Hall. She would not speak to him as his Queen, she would speak to him as a woman. A woman with a heart full of love, if only he would take it.
She knew he would never say anything, he would never ask. He was too proper and reserved. But he must know how she felt about him, he must feel the same way! Well, if he would never speak the words out loud then she must be brave enough for the two of them.
She was fast approaching now, he would turn and look any second.
The leaves broke and crunched underfoot, her dress swished and swirled the myriad of colours in her wake. Her heart beat wildly.
He turned.
A pause. He looked around as if to find an explanation as to her presence. Then that familiar eyebrow she so longed to touch, raised up. He did not look angry, but he did not look pleased either. His face firmly schooled into a neutral expression she could not read.
He didn’t appear as shocked as he’d been the last time she’d appeared unexpectedly. Then, he been very bewildered, half undressed and off balance. This time, he was rather more dressed, but not as tightly done up as usual. She could see his neck and collarbones. If her heart was not already threatening to leave her body then it would have fluttered at the sight.
She removed her veil so she might see him more clearly, and he her.
‘Ah it is you Ma’am,’ he said teasingly, ‘I couldn’t tell.’ The corners of his mouth lifted in a small smile. She smiled back; he was pleased to see her.
‘The butler said you’d be here’ she said by way of explanation.
He nodded, ‘I come here for the rooks,’ he turned to look at them, high in the treetops. Now it was clear what he’d been preoccupied with, sat against the obelisk. ‘They’re sociable creatures,’ he said, pointing to them. ‘A gathering like this is called a parliament. Altogether more civilised than their human counterparts,’ he looked back her to see her reaction. She smiled again.
There was a pause. He waited for her to speak. She needed to gather her thoughts and not be distracted by rooks. She took a breath, fortifying herself.
‘I’m sorry to disturb you Lord M,’ she began. Another pause, two, as she took two breaths, trying to find her courage, ‘But I had to talk to you.’
‘Brocket Hall is honoured Ma’am,’ he replied, the formalities slipping easily from his mouth. But he seemed like he meant it.
‘I’ve come here incognito of course,’ she said quickly, before he could ask.
‘Of course,’ he answered, ‘But your presence here could not be entirely disguised.’ She did not know if her was referring to the servants, to society, or to himself. He moved closer and his face crinkled as it did when he was teasing her.
But she did not want to be teased today. She wanted to be serious. Now that she was here and face to face with him, she found herself nervous. Never had she been anxious in his presence. It was that which she found so comforting. She could be herself with him, no need to be on guard the whole time. That was why she had to say the words. Say them out loud this day. Make it real.
The pause this time was a long one. Long enough for the corners of M’s mouth to turn and he looked serious again.
‘I realised something yesterday,’ she said, and there were more words, words she’d practiced in the carriage, but she was struggling to find them. Again another pause.
‘Yes Ma’am?’ M prompted her gently, stepping in closer. He stared at her questioningly.
‘I-I think perhaps now I am speaking as a woman, and not as a Queen’ and it was okay if her nerves showed, she thought, in this moment, she was not a Queen.
He remained silent; giving her the time to speak. She had never been more grateful. Or more nervous.
‘In the beginning,’ she continued, ‘I thought that you were the father I never had.’ He blinked, processing her words, ‘But now,’ and if she didn’t say it then she never would, ‘Now I feel -I know- that you’re the only companion I could ever desire.’
Her eyes gazed into his. She couldn’t say it any clearer than that. He must know her meaning. He must know how her heart belonged to him. He looked down and moved to take her hands into his. He stroked his hand over her gloved one. He was so close now, and touching her like this….
There was silence as he held her hands, fixated on them. Victoria hardly dared breathe, waiting like this…
Eventually, ‘You must know how I feel about you,’ he said, still focused on their hands, ‘But you must also know it can never be.’
‘Why?’ she asked and her voice shook.
‘I am your servant, you are my Queen-‘
‘-I don’t care about that,’
‘I am so much older than you-‘
‘-I don’t care about that-‘
‘You deserve someone far, far better than me.’ He finished, glancing back up to look at her.
‘I don’t care about any of that!’ she cried and Lord she could feel tears pricking her eyes. Could he not see how much he meant to her?
‘I love you’ she said simply. Her heart was laid bare, out in the open, exposed, vulnerable.
Lord M looked into her eyes and anguish was written across his face.
‘I love you also, your Majesty,’ he replied, his voice cracking.
‘Please,’ she whispered wetly, ‘I know you would never ask it of me, and so I must ask it of you. You above everyone else are who I want to give my heart to. I know you would cherish it.’
‘I would,’ he replied and he sounded like a broken man.
She pulled her hand gently from his and lifted it to his face. Stroking along his hairline, fingertips tracing over that eyebrow, over the prominent cheek bone and down to his jaw. Never had she touched any man like this, and to now be allowed this small touch from him… He gazed into her face, searching for something.
‘How can I withstand this onslaught,’ he murmured. ‘I defy any man to refuse you Victoria.’
Then, a quirk of the lips and a pause, she waited for him as he had waited for her. He cleared his throat, ‘Then…Then I must inform your Majesty that I resign from my position as Prime Minister of your Majesty’s government.’
‘Oh dear Lord M,’ she whispered, hardly daring to hope, ‘Does this mean?’
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘Yes I will marry you.’
‘Oh’ she sighed out and at that moment the sun broke out for one last time on the chilly autumn afternoon. Her heart felt like it would burst with joy! Her saviour and protector, her champion and companion was to be by her side, never to leave again.
‘Oh indeed,’ he replied quietly with a smile.
Victoria felt like she could stand here forever with her hands in Lord M’s and his smile just for her. It was enough, it was more than enough, to know that her loved her too. Her hand which had been resting on his face now moved to rest over his, touching him as she never had before, with open, acknowledged love between them.
‘May I?’ he asked. She looked up at him inquiringly. His face moved closer to hers, so close now that their breath mingled in the still, cool air. His nose brushed against hers. She inhaled, was this happening? She knew little of matters of love, but was this…would he truly kiss her?
His mouth lowered over hers and her eyes closed instinctively. His lips were soft. It was strange, but not unwelcome. Light, but increasing pressure and he rested his lips there for what seemed like a perfect, blissful age.
Then he was pulling away and already her lips ached for more. Eyes fluttering Victoria looked up at him. His eyelids were lowered but they opened before her now.
‘I…I never thought I would be this happy again,’ he confessed, his voice cracking a little.
‘Oh M,’ she breathed.
‘William,’
‘William,’ the name was alien on her tongue. It stirred something within her, possessive, intimate. She stretched up on tiptoes, hoping her would understand.
Like always, he did.
They kissed again. Closed mouthed, sweet and chaste. More kisses. Each one sparking a flame within her until, after several long minutes she was warm and flushed.
‘Look at you,’ her Lord M -William- murmured, ‘All rosy cheeked and blushing.’
‘I’m not blushing!’ she cried, her mouth seemed to move slowly, her lips were still tingling from the touch of his. Her hands flew up to her cheeks. ‘I’m merely…it’s the chill,’ she declared. ‘It is altogether too cold outside, and the wind stings my face.’
‘Alright, my Queen,’ he said in his teasing tone, ‘I understand. The wind and I you see, share the same desire.’
She looked at him, waiting for an explanation and knowing he was poking fun.
Lord M leaned down and whispered in her ear, ‘The desire to caress your skin as a lover would,’ her breath caught in her throat and the warmth within her dropped low in her belly. Never had she heard words like these, ‘Only, that’s where I find I triumph over the petty breeze, for I have your love and it does not.’
‘William,’ the word left her mouth, barely audible, but he heard it.
This time he kissed her deeply. Wrapping his arms around her he pulled her flush to his body. Not even when dancing had they been this close. He coaxed open her mouth and parted her lips. She did not know kisses could be like this, hot and passionate. His tongue entered her mouth, but rather than be repulsed she found that it caused her blood to run hot like liquid fire. It was almost overwhelming. His tongue stroked over hers, then withdrew slightly to lap at her bottom lip. He kissed her chastely then, once, twice before pressing his forehead to hers and breathing heavily.
‘Oh Victoria, what you do to me,’ he huffed.
‘William,’ she whispered again, and it pulled the same reaction from him again. He kissed her thoroughly, showing her, tutoring her so that soon she was pressing her tongue curiously against his lips. He let her enter and explore his mouth, a low rumble emanating from his body in response to her actions. She felt powerful, she felt heady, she had not known love could be like this. She loved him with her heart, her mind and now she was beginning to love him with her body too.
After some time, he slowed the kisses down. Echoing the beginning, he kissed her ever so softly, so sweetly and slowly.
The stood together. His arms still around her, holding her close to him. She rested her head to the side on his chest. She was gratified to hear his heart beating at a pace similar to hers.
He spoke after a while, ‘It will be difficult. It will not please them,’
‘Them?’ she said, moving to look up at him, ‘Who is them? I do not care one whit what they think. I am the Queen and I will marry the man I love. You will be by my side and with you….with you I feel safe, I feel happy…I feel loved.’
Lord M looked down at her fondly, his mouth crinkled into the smile that she so liked, the one that was just for her. He kissed her forehead softly before saying with all his heart, ‘You are loved my dear, you are so, so loved.’